Though firmly rooted in ’70s progressive and psychedelic rock, Dungen has never felt like a tribute act, throwback or genre exercise. By offering up honest-to-god great songs with memorable vocals leads, fluid performances, killer arrangements and an unflinching love of the flute, they nail the vibe of their beloved era while always sounding like themselves. On Häxan, the group presents a recent scoring of the 1926 animation classic The Adventures of Prince Achmed, replacing the original’s crackling symphonic score with fourteen interludes, rave-ups and mini-suites that nod knowingly to the past while remaining fresh.
Like most soundtracks, Häxan comes alive in context. Though marketed as a stand-alone album, it reads more as a deep psych mood board than a truly independent work. There’s an abundance of production details to get lost in, and the band sounds as vital as ever—dynamic, tight and assured. The fuzzy guitar and scraped piano strings on the title track give the feel of a genuine Morricone relic, and the gorgeous organ on “Kalifen” nods overtly to “A Whiter Shade of Pale” without feeling cheap. Recorded to and edited on tape, there’s an exquisite warmth to the entire album, with plenty of chunky, vibrant textures. Tiny details, like the trail of a spring reverb or a strikingly loud shaker panned way off in the stereo field give a sense of raw physicality, of players reacting to one another in a room.
One of the best moments comes early on, in “Wak-Wak’s Portar.” Sounding like a live bootleg from 1976, the group blurs into a monolithic, phased out wall of sound… except for the flute. Loud and in charge, it cuts across the whole mix, demanding to be heard. It’s an awesome, and funny, minute and a half, which suddenly gives way to some distant elevator music. Dungen are clearly enjoying themselves.
Once the album is finished, however, the songs stay with you less than these details. To start, at 40 minutes it’s barely more than half the length of Adventures, which means you can’t toss it on alongside the film and have a seamless experience start-to-finish. Nonetheless, letting the two play simultaneously does have its rewards. Album opener “Peri Banu Vid Sjön” initially sounded like a bland bit of coffee shop fodder. But next to the opening credits, it bloomed, teasing out a melancholy ache behind the tale of adventure about to unfold.
At times, there were moments of startling synchronicity. More importantly, the moods simply matched up often. Dungen’s rollicking, questing rhythm section and flight-of-fancy solos sync up well with the flying horses, shapeshifting spell casters and voyages to faraway lands, and the more eerie, spaced out passages worked great in tenser scenes. Still, an edit that we could match to the film would have been a more-than-welcome addition. As it is, Häxan occupies an odd slot in Dungen’s hard hitting and respectably consistent discography: a labor of love that is less than essential, rewarding but not attention grabbing, remarkably ambitious and yet strangely ephemeral.
